A World Wrought In Iron
by AhumbleHalofan
Summary: A simple quiet Soul has her entire world ripped and torn from her by a simple chance meeting. Can she endure the harshness of human captivity? *this is an original story I don't touch established characters*
1. Chapter 1

The light of an average sized sun poured its light onto a tiny spinning bright blue orb. With the rotational spin of this small planet, named Earth by long conquered natives, light began to strike the continents that named the America's. As the world spun and the sun cast its power ever more onto this bright blue world the light grew ever stronger on a city settled in the middle of what the natives had called North America. The city in question was once known as Little Rock but, it seemed that the blue world's new rulers did not care about the names given to places by their conquests.

With the continuing movement of the planet the light began to shine brightly into the small one bedroom apartment of the soul Silent Shadow. Yellow sunlight entered easily through the thin glass, of the only window in the entire apartment, and settled upon the dark chocolate skin of the rooms sleeping occupant. As more and more light began to enter the room with the rising of the sun; eventually enough sun light entered to light up the peacefully sleeping face of the young woman within.

With a muttered groan the Silent Shadow gently picked herself up from the warm inviting bed sheets she had wrapped herself in during her nights slumber. With a mild yawn she cast her eyes out once again past the bright sunlight of new day onto the bright green grass and trees of the park outside her apartment complex. Rubbing the small amount of sleep from the corners of her eyes Silent Shadow couldn't help but grin as she stared out on the green. This was the exact moment of the day she treasured most. The most glorious moment in the day when the world was most quiet with only the very beginnings of activity starting to show.

Rising up lightly with the spryness of youthful body the young soul padded over to a small bathroom to take care of the necessities when starting the day. When she reached the small white sink and cast her gaze at the mirror she saw the same face that had greeted her for the past 10 years of her life on this wonderful green blue planet. A dark skinned human woman gazed back with dark brown eyes, the constant glowing ring around the irises, high cheek bones and plump heart shaped lips. The features framed a face of what many men would have called a natural beauty. With a small intake of breath and shrug of the shoulders at the frizzled nature of her midnight hair she quickly undressed and stepped into the small porcelain tub; hurriedly starting a shower before the day could even begin to pass her by.

With Shadow's shower complete she dressed herself according to what the small man on the television said would be the perfect weather, not too cold and not too hot. She dressed up in small brown cotton shorts, with a small long-sleeved cotton black shirt, opened at the neck, over a light red short sleeved shirt. Looking over herself once more in the small bathroom mirror; Silent Shadow felt ready to head out and begin her day. Proceeding to grab a worn rectangular leather case and a small purse containing her identification papers and keys she proceeded toward the doors until a shout from the stilling running television made her come to a dead stop.

"In more serious news there was _another _reported break-in this morning along with a brutal assault carried out by as yet unknown soulless. However we are being reassured by Seekers that they are actively seeking out the human or humans that are responsible for these terrible crimes. One Seeker said that they feel confident they will have the Soulless responsible for this captured within the day. Marie, what do you think about..."

As the report turned into polite discussion of opinions by the two news reporters Silent Shadows heart was racing. Her hand had unknowing begun clutching her chest in fear, pulling at the dark material of her shirt. Shadow was taking deep calming breaths to regain her composer and excitement . Ever since the last of the hard fought conflicts between the natives had ended the remaining humans had turned into a boogieman of sorts and having arrived long after those conflicts Silent Shadow was mortally afraid of ever meeting one.

With Silent Shadows heart beat calmed down enough she tightened her grip on the leather case and proceeded to turn off the television and head out of the door of her apartment. She proceeded directly for her favorite spot in the entire world which was a bench underneath a small oak tree. The bench was the best view point in Shadows opinion where she could conduct her art. Silent Shadow was an artist; she drew anything and everything she saw around her, from smiling couples walking hand in hand to the swaying of the trees around her.

Usually before Silent Shadow would ever go to her favorite park bench she would stop at a small restaurant to have a small breakfast and even see something that she could draw. Shadow couldn't count the number of times she had drawn the corpulent but constantly smiling restaurant owner who always had a spot open for what he called, "his favorite stile life". Today with the news report still on her mind she bypassed it altogether and continued down the concrete sidewalk toward the park.

Among the extremely social Souls Silent Shadows was an oddity. She liked being alone and leaving alone. On her first two planets she had been forced by necessity to communicate out of boredom and as a way of guidance Aside from the corpulent owner, who she couldn't even name, and an art curator who was a close friend, she interacted with no one else. Any other soul who tried to talk to her to be friendly or get to know her were rebuffed or the conversations died leaving a frighting silence. Silent Shadow couldn't stand those silences where she felt the pressure to babble and yet she couldn't think of anything to say. Instead of interacting with her fellow souls she took deep pleasure in drawing the world around her with a precision and style that made her work decorate the walls of her only friends art museum. This pass time proved to be her one true calling as the planet of the bats and plants didn't allow for anything of the sort.

Upon reaching her favorite little green bench under the oak tree Silent Shadow sat down and proceed to open the worn leather pack to reveal snow white paper and writing implements. Sitting up straight Shadow peered her eyes around the park looking for something to inspire her first drawing of the day. She saw everything from small waste baskets with the trees swaying to the calls of the wind to a small pack of brightly dressed mothers pushing strollers and chatting animatedly amongst themselves. Nothing immediately inspired any creative designs for her to put to paper.

The news broadcast seemed to be weighing heavily on her mind. Every time she thought she spotted something interesting the news report quickly popped into her head and she lost her train of thought. This cycle of interest and distraction carried on for hours and just as the sun had raised itself to its zenith Silent Shadows stomach gave an discomforting rumble. This uncomfortable feeling drew Shadows mind from wondering if the heavily kissing couple on the grass would be subjects to draw and made here remember she had skipped part of daily routine.

Immediately she packed up her writing utensils and still perfectly white paper back into her worn leather case and proceed to cross the nearby street and go toward her favorite restaurant with the rotund owner. When she reached her the place she found the light green doors to be locked with the Closed sign still in place. She didn't understand why the place was still closed she knew that it was open early in the morning to well past night fall. It was never closed unless there was an emergency.

Frowning to herself she turned around and wondered what to do as slow moving cars and mindful pedestrians carefully moved about her. Silent Shadow stood in front of the restaurant for a time unsure of where to go. Even though she knew that there were other places to eat along the street and around the block she was unsure where to go. Silent Shadow was a creature of habits and was uncertain of what to do and coming up with the best plan of action she could she proceeded to walk down the street and stare into each place and see if they met her liking.

The first one she passed packed place with far too many people to liking; they would be too loud for her to think and draw peacefully. The second store had no one around except a bored looking woman mindlessly wiping an already clean table top; there must be a good reason why no one would be eating there. Silent Shadow walked by a third restaurant that had it's own problem, then the forth, then the fifth, and then the sixth restaurant were just as quickly dismissed. As she continued to walk, having long since taken off her black cotton shirt and tied it around her waist; Silent Shadow grew unsure if she would ever find a nice place to eat until she nearly passed by and missed her holy grail. The place was a two floor construction with painted bright green woodwork outlining the doorway and was nestled between two nice looking apartment buildings.

Silent Shadow didn't know exactly what drew her to the place but when she looked inside she knew she had found her spot. Inside were 4 separated people dispersed throughout a nice well-lit and fairly roomy area with a small counter to place orders inserted in the back. Everyone looked to be minding their own business; either occupied reading a newspaper or book to animatedly talking on a phone while picking at their food. The place had a look and feel to it she had never encountered before but what past natives would have called a 50's diner look. The checkered black and white flooring and soft looking booths and chairs however were what really sold the place to Shadow; her feet were really starting to ache.

Tentatively opening the door and ringing an unseen bell Shadow was immediately pleased that nobody looked up from what they were doing to see who the new comer was. She smiled lightly and walked toward the back where a woman dressed in a light blue dress with a white apron tied around her middle stood smiling waiting for her to approach. Silent Shadow clutched the worn leather case to her chest as if for protection and walked up to the blue dress wearing woman.

"What'cha looking for hun?" said the woman. Silent Shadows looking down at the shinny counter top noded not meeting her eyes, "What would you suggest ma'am?" The woman chuckled lightly, "Well that depends sugar. How hungry are yea?" But before Shadow could answer on her own her body did it for her. It let out a low grumble that was clearly audible to the waitress and Silent Shadow but seemed to sound the death gong for any chance of her eating here.

Her face felt as if it were on fire from embarrassment, Shadow couldn't think of anything to say and just shuffled her feet looking for a way out of such a mortifying situation. But the woman was far more understanding and did something that Shadow did not expect. The waitress gently placed a finger underneath Shadow's chin and lifted her face until she was starring into the kind eyed waitress. "How about I give you a menu and you wave me over when you're ready?"

Nodding fervently Silent Shadow took a proffered menu, a thing of laminated plastic and hurried over to the booth farthest from anyone but directly near a window. She placed her leather case on top of the table and plopped down with a sigh into red velvet covered seat; very grateful to the waitress and immediately looked through the menu she had been given. Quickly she found something to her liking and looked up just as the kind waitress walked over with a glass of ice chilled water. Silent Shadow smiled happily and pointed directly at what her choice was, "Do you think this will be good?" she asked with tones that were far warmer than any she had used in times past.

Smiling and leaning forward to inspect Shadow's choice the waitress could only node, "It's perfect for you hun." Quickly the woman turned and walked back but not before grabbing the menu she had given to Silent Shadow.

As Silent Shadow proceeded to wait for her food she began to look and take in her surroundings silently sipping on the cold water. She noticed two older men with differing complexions reading the same newspaper. What really caught her eye was the extravagance of the facial hair each of the men sported. One, a pale wrinkle eyed man, whose beard seemed so over grown and bushy that it could have passed for pillow stuffing. The second man was clearly balding with darkly tanned skin and hair as white as snow with a mustache so long and curved it reminded her of pictures she had seen on first getting her body, of large animals called goats.

All thought of the news broadcast she had seen so early this morning fled her mind as she saw these two men and immediately pulled out paper and writing equipment and proceed to scratch ruff sketches of both men as they read and turned their newspapers. Just as she finished both men's drawings and just begun to fill in the background around the pillow stuffing man she was pulled from her work by the arrival of the waitress with her food.

Silent Shadows eyes turned into dinner plates as hunger took control and immediately took up fork knife and even at times spoon to consume her meal. Just as she was scarfing down a particularly tasty bit of food the waitress poked her on the shoulder with a thin index finger. As the woman looked at Shadow with those kindly eyes from before she was unsure what to do, "So you're an artist?" Nodding and giving a minor grunt Silent Shadow hurriedly swallowed her food so she could talk, "I like to draw."

"Well by my guess sugar you're pretty good at it" said the woman. Beaming with delight Silent Shadow couldn't help but feel good about the woman's compliments. "Would you be willing to draw my diner then? If it's no trouble of course!"

"Of course!" said Shadow. She felt that in trade for such a delicious meal she would have drawn the kindly waitress the entire city block by block. Smiling gently at Silent Shadow the woman proceeded walk away toward what Shadow presumed to be the kitchen. Quickly she abandoned, for the time being, her drawings of the old men but not before making sure to fix their images into mind for future sketches. Then with speed and precision Silent Shadow proceeded to begin drawing the entirety of the diner she had so unexpectedly found to her own delight.

As time flowed and passed Silent Shadow lost track of all movement around her to the point where a thousand rampaging bulls could have run by and she wouldn't have even noticed. Time passed even more until the suns gaze on the little blue orb of a planet began to shift to another side of it and the light which had brightened Silent Shadows day began to fade and die.

The sun had long set by the time Shadow felt her drawing had been completed to her satisfaction and she was surprised to find the light blue dress woman sitting in front of her, her hands clasped together patiently. Hurriedly getting up Silent Shadow was embarrassed that she had detained the woman past what must have been her closing hours. "I'm sorry sorry I didn't mean to keep you!" she cried. The woman acting the epitome of soul simply waved it off. "It's fine suga. Don't worry about it! But would you like a friend to walk you back? It's kinda late." The woman further made her point by looking outside, drawing Shadow's gaze with her to look at the perfectly dark outside only punctuated by the street lights.

Hurriedly handing her finished drawing to the woman Silent Shadow declined the woman's offer, "Thank you but I don't need one. I'm not that far away." Then quickly with all her things repacked into her worn leather drawing case she proceeded toward the door but before she had completely gone outside the door the kindly waitress called back to her, "There will always be a spot open for yea sugar! I wanna see more of those drawings!" One of the biggest smiles Shadow had ever had crossed her face and she waved back and then quickly went in the direction of her apartment home.

The smile that had come across her face was so joyous that she hugged the leather case to her chest tightly and walked the concrete streets with a little spring to her step. Silent Shadow felt she may have found a wonderful new place to sit, eat and draw and deep down maybe a new friend. So consumed with thoughts of drawing and the idea of friendship she didn't see the rather large man walking toward her until it was too late.

Both Silent Shadow and the unknown man met with force and rebounded from each other slamming into the hard unyielding pavement below. Silent Shadows leather case bounced from the clutches of her arms and burst open spilling all her drawing paper and implements. Unseen amongst Shadow's spilled possessions was a pair of dark tinted glasses.

A low groan escaped the lightly battered form of Silent Shadow raised a dazed head upwards wondering what kind of wall she had run into but then she saw the scattered papers about her and quickly sprung into action. She made to grab the papers around her but the wind it seemed had designs on stealing some of her drawing supplies and unfinished work. Looking up too see the man was already up she shouted for his help, "Please help me! Don't let them get blown away!" The man seemed to hesitate at first but then silently began to pick up the fallen paper and stuff then into a rather large hand before grabbing for more.

Quickly Silent Shadow did as the man did grabbing all the loose papers around her including a pair of dark tinted glasses that must have belonged to the man. There was something odd about the glasses but Shadow didn't have time to think about that as she was too afraid of losing her drawings to the clutches of the evil blowing wind. As the last paper was gathered up from both the ground and the unknown man she hurriedly stuffed her drawings back into the worn leather case. Throughout this Silent Shadow hadn't once looked at the man standing before her.

Securing her leather drawing case more tightly Silent Shadow turned to see the man still standing before as if waiting for something. Quickly she realized it must be the glasses she had still clutched in her hand. "Are these yours?" she asked as politely as possible.

The man leaned forward without a word to take the glasses back and as he did so Silent Shadow was able to get a perfect look at the face of her impromptu wall. What she saw caused her heart to squeeze as if in a vise, her breath turn to ice and her very blood to run cold. The eyes she saw were bright blue and they did not have the glowing ring around them. This person was a soulless. This was a soulless human being and Silent Shadow was terrified.

**I hope any one who reads this liked what I've written and I hope you leave a nice review even if it's bad I like any input you can give me. I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes that you might find. I literally wrote this entire thing within 2 1/2 hours and did as much proof reading as I could. I simply want some opinions on if I should continue this or not.**

**On another note if I do continue this then I plan to bump this up to an M rating due to the dialog of certain future characters are going to have and the level of maturity required to handle them. To put it mildly I plan to delve deeper into the brutality that mankind would enter into when an alien invader such as the Souls takes over hosts bodies. That means causal murder, torture, and rape. While I find it horrible I believe it's necessary in order to tell a story about people in this situation.**


	2. Taken

**Disclaimer: I do not own or ever will claim to own a single piece of the book "The Host". If I had written it would not have been in first person format. **

**This is where things start to become Mature**

Time itself had slowed down to a crawl for Silent Shadow. The shear amount of terror and fear that coursed along her veins seemed to allow her to take in the entirety of her situation. Before her stood a soulless human being; a human being who she believed down to the very last cell in her body was going to do every single horrible act he could to her before finally murdering her.

Shadows dark brown glowing iris eyes could see every detail of the humans face in front of her. His face struck her as some how utterly primal in its formation. There were scars that ran in light furrows across a jutting brow and down a right eye. Other scars as well, small craters, that were imperfections in otherwise perfectly smooth skin. These were the hallmarks of the soulless humans who didn't have access to the incredible healing medicine of the Souls. No age lines marred the skin over his forehead or around the corners of a just beginning to snarl mouth.

The heart within Silent Shadows chest was beating faster and faster urging her, begging her to run to fight, to do anything. Time was the cruelest of masters in the universe. For a single moment Shadow thought back to all that she had done and all that she had yet to do. She wanted to learn the kind eyed waitresses name. She wanted to be friends. She wanted to see more of this vast world she had landed on but, had seen so little of. Even as Silent Shadow contemplated her regrets time itself would have no more of her stalling the inevitable.

The outreached hand of the human that had at first seemed so harmless before now closed into an compact fist. Quickly he drew back and jabbed at the gut of defenseless victim. Having made the choice to scream as loudly and alarmingly as possible, Shadow had only just begun to inhale before she found it completely knocked out of her by the blunt force of a battering ram.

Silent Shadow could no longer draw breath as it was so suddenly stolen from her. Quickly her legs turned to the consistency of jello and the strength of her arms left her. The special ragged leather drawing case she had carried with her for so long tumbled down from nerveless fingers onto cold unyielding concrete. She doubled over the still embedded fist, gasping for breath and collapsed onto all fours as the human withdrew his arm.

Small lines of spittle flew from Silent Shadows gaping mouth as she tried to inhale breath where it would not come. All past thought of regret or hopes for tomorrow were drowned out by the all consuming need to breath. Struggling to take in even a single golden breath Shadow couldn't help but see as her attackers leather boot clad feet moved in practice motions around her.

Still heavily focused on her breathing Shadow could do little as the human moved his arm underneath her neck and dragged her forcefully upward. Shadow hadn't really noticed how much shorter she was in comparison to the soulless, now with only the tips of her toes now touching the ground she knew. The Soulless maneuvered his arm to where the joint of his elbow moved was directly on her windpipe. Shadow could feel the man start to squeeze like the arms of a hydraulic vise as he seemed determined to cut off all air flow.

With animal panic Silent Shadow scratched, shook, and twisted trying to make her assailant let go before he choked the very life out of her. She could feel her nails, always lightly trimmed, dig into the soft yielding skin of her attacker and she knew she must have drawn blood. Even before she could marvel at the violence she had inflicted on her attacker the vision of her body was becoming dark at the edges and was slowly moving inward. Her limbs which had moved so desperately before were going slack, unresponsive to the commands that she issued.

Silent Shadow knew she was going to die. That her body was going to die and soon after she would as well as the humans always made sure of. They would crack open the skull like a melon looking for the small hair like connections that attached her to her hosts brain. Then they would ripe her from her human home and smash her, cut her up into tiny bits and then roast her over an open fire and probably eat her. That was what always happened to the souls that were captured by humans; the lucky ones that is. When she had first ever woken up she had been told by a wide eyed healer that there were much worse things these evil sadistic soulless could do before they murdered you.

As darkness began to claim the totality of her vision Shadow hopped, in vain she knew, that at least it would be over quickly and then she would know no more pain. Tears overflowing across her eyes she could only utter a single chocked off word, "...please..."

**BREAKBREAKBREAK**

Silent Shadow could feel herself falling endlessly through a dark cold world. This world had no dreams and no sound with the only feeling of something strong clutching her around the middle to let her know she was anything at all. Slowly this world was no longer as dark and quiet as she thought it was. Great pockets of brightness would came into her vision and then just as quickly were gone with the blink of an eye. Small sounds could be heard that had no identity to them only the slightest of hums and maybe words.

Ever so slightly an awareness of the world came back to Silent Shadow and she could make out the quick silent whispers of people around her.

"You idiot! Why didn't yea kill'er and be done with it?" said a gruff voice. Who could Mr. Gruff be talking about Shadow wondered groggily? Certainly not her. "Who gives a shit why he didn't? Why for fucks sake was he outside to begin with?" another voice this time much higher in pitch but seemed to sound like tissue paper ripping. Another voice replied of equal pitch, "We all know why. He's just young and he wants to see the..."

"World? Eh isn't that what you were gonna say Shella?" another gruff voice interrupted. This voice seemed to sound almost liquid in nature as if the speaker spoke with their mouth full of water. "Why'n the hell would the boy wanna see the world? Cause he's too damn busy reading those books you insist on leading! That's why!"

"If ye just..." but before the liquid man could finish he was shouted down. "SHUT UP!" This new voice seemed to come with a power and vigor that only comes with youth. "I didn't kill it because I didn't want to! So stop talking about me like I'm not here." With a sharp exhale and inhale the youthful voice continued, "What's done is done." A few grumbles of agreement met this. "I think we should look at this differently. How many have we ever captured alive that didn't just kill themselves? Maybe we can get something useful out of it before we kill it?"

A new voice spoke up and unlike the previous voices this carried an air of leadership and authority underneath deep base tones. "Peter, it's not a seeker. You told us as much when you brought it here. What good would it do for us to interrogate it? It would be more merciful and safer to just kill it now."

Opening her eyes in panic at the word kill Silent Shadow made to get up before ever taking in her surroundings. If she had she would have noticed a familiar floor tiling. Instead she was greeted by the startled stares of a dozen Soulless eyes landing squarely on her obviously Soul filled orbs. The nearest Soulless had to have been her attacker from not to long ago; Shadow couldn't forget the scarred visage, especially the one across the right eye.

"It's awake!" cried a shrill voice. Still woozy from her near strangulation, Silent Shadow could do little to stop the tide of humanity as they rushed to stop, what could only be, an escape attempt. Silent Shadow never saw who or what struck her but, the next thing she knew was the sudden impact on the side of her head and then she knew no more.

**BREAKBREAKBREAK**

The first sensation Silent Shadow became aware of was that she had to be sitting because of the pressure she could feel on her back and bottom. Why was she sitting? Hadn't she fallen asleep in her nice comfortable bed? Why did her stomach and the side of her head feel so tender? To answer these question she knew she had to open her eyes and see why.

With a groan of pain Silent Shadow opened her bleary eyes and looked around the room she found herself in. At least she tried to look, there was a bright light shining in her face making it impossible to see anything except an unyielding metal table table in front of her. With the bright light shoved into her own glowing eyes the rest of the room appeared pitch black with unknowable depths.

With a surge of panic at her unknown surroundings Shadow made to get up but was quickly brought back to her hard metal resting place when all of her limbs wouldn't move. Looking down she realized with ever growing alarm that her wrists were bound to the armrests of her chair with cold metallic restraints. If she had been alive during the golden age of humanity she would have known these were called handcuffs. Even as she gazed in horror at her wrists she tried to move her legs and found to her ever growing sense of panic that they too were restrained.

Panicked thoughts coursed through Shadow's mind, unable to control these never before felt feelings of terror she began to struggle wildly trying with all her might to dislodge her restraints. For all her struggles she only earned herself bloody wrists and ankles as her restraints chaffed at her dark skin. As she continued to struggle part of her rational mind began to assert itself and she hung her head in defeat. She knew she would not be able to get free.

How had she gotten here? Rising her head ever slightly Shadow thought back and immediately the past days events came rushing back at her with the force of a human meeting a wall. A desperate gasp escaped her lips at the assault of memories and her eyes roved wildly trying to catch a glimpse, a hint, at where she was. The bright shining light however, prevented all.

Silent Shadow had no idea how long she was in this dark room with its shining light all she knew was that as time crawled by and she continued to stew in her own terror that maybe it would be best to resort to her only chance of avoiding pain and torture. The idea of ending her hosts life and by extension herself repulsed her and she was unsure if she could go through with it. Still the thought weighed heavily on her mind and she could not easily repress it.

After a great deal of time passed, whether a hour or a day Silent Shadow couldn't tell, a door knob could be heard twisting and a door on squeaky hinges opened. Immediately Shadow's head, which had been slumped forward, shot upwards in fright. What were they going to do to her?

As the door opened fully Shadow heard two distinctive sets of foot steps cross over into her current realm of darkness and light. Across from her she could hear a metal chair scrapping across a tiled floor and a slight metallic thump and sigh as someone sat down across from her.

The soulless across from her however, was not the one she was worried about; he was sitting down. The other pair of footsteps she heard was slowly agonizingly drawing closer to her handcuffed form. Every primal instinct in her hosts body screamed for her to get away and she tried but her handcuffs wouldn't let her get far and the chair was bolted to the floor.

The second pair of footsteps abruptly ended directly behind Silent Shadow and she was far to frightened to look back and see who or what it was. Movement in front of her instantly drew her attention back from her contemplation as a the same man who had assaulted her leaned forward on scarred forearms.

"What is your name?" His voice didn't hold any of the youthful command she had heard lifetimes ago; it was dead, unemotional, as if he was talking to a wall and not a person.

Shadow's terror increased two fold at this mans unemotional voice and that terror seized up her throat making any response impossible. He waited patiently for a moment waiting for her to respond but Shadow could feel it wavering by the second as her inability to speak continued. Suddenly the hand of a giant grabbed her skull from behind and the next thing she saw were stars as her skull met the unyielding cold metal of the table that was in front of her.

"What's your name!" screamed the gruff voice from before; his hot breath painfully close to the neck of Silent Shadow. Unable to see but hear Silent Shadow heard the chair across from her scrape the tiles and that same youthful voice once again. "I told you none of that! Get the fuck out!" the voice ordered. A grunt of derision met the youthful voices command. "Make me chicken shit."

Suddenly a quick scuffle broke out but the blow to Silent Shadow's head made her too disoriented to even contemplate opening her eyes. The sound of the physical battle didn't last long as suddenly a crack like that of a thick twig being broken and a cry of anguish met Shadow's ears. Quickly she heard the door slammed open and a warm body was hurled from the room to the outside world.

Deep breathing was all that could be heard in the dark room as Shadow laid down with her rapidly bruising head still on the table; she was unable to tell who had won this violent skirmish. As minutes passed Shadow began to grow uncomfortable with her current position and began to shuffle her arms and legs doing her best to keep the noise and movement as low key as possible. This proved futile because she immediately heard the feet of the man turn slightly in her direction. At that slight turning she heard an audible click and light flooded her shut eyelids.

Slowly hesitantly Shadow raised her head and opened her eyes to see the room for what it was. It was painted a distasteful lime green with a single lamp and light fixture to illuminate the room. While the room was extremely unappealing Shadow immediately looked to see who exactly had turned on the light. She was extremely conflicted on how she should feel. The victor of the scuffle between those two primitive soulless had been her scarred attacker. Even now, his arm still poised on the light switch, he starred at her with an unblinking blue eyed gaze.

Suddenly he broke off eye contact with Silent Shadow and made to return to his chair. "I would tell you I'm sorry for that but that would be a pretty big lie." As he plopped himself back into the previously vacated chair he turned to make eye contact with her again. In that same dead voice he had first spoken to her with he started fresh. "What's your name?" and he waited for a response.

A bestial terror coursed through he body at that same tone of voice. No soul ever spoke like that. No soul had ever had cause to talk like that. All souls were naturally cheerful and at the very least were polite to a..."I'm will not ask again. What is your name."

Silent shadow fought the grip terror had on her voice and struggled to answer this soulless before his patience was lost and he became like the man he had just chased out. "My...na...name...is...Si...Silent...Shadow." It had taken a stupendous effort to get that out but she had finally succeeded hopefully nothing else would be asked of her.

"You know. A great man once said that he had chosen to stick with love. Because hate is too great a burden to bear." His unblinking gaze continued to bore into the trembling form of Silent Shadow. He smirked lightly at her continued terror, "I hazard a guess that even the good Dr. King would have a hard time letting go of his hate for you."

With terror nearly consuming Silent Shadows mind, she was totally unable to come up with a reasonable response to this mans pronouncement so she said the first thing that came into her head. "I don't know who that is..." she trailed off with a whimper. "Of course you wouldn't. Your kind doesn't seem to value our history."

Still unable to come up with a decent response she continued following the emotions of panic and terror that were feed to her, "No, that's not it! I like to draw! I can even paint!"

"What's that got to do with your lack of historical knowledge?" stated the man with a curious tone. "It means that's not my calling. I don't like to read about your history's. I do love to draw the monuments TO your history. Why do you make them?" The question suddenly came to Silent Shadow on the purest of whims. It had occurred to her once while drawing the great dome building that seemed to have been meant as the center of the city she lived in. However, she had quickly discarded thought out of hand.

Silent Shadow was rewarded with a raised eyebrow. "Why do you care, why we built them?"

"Why do you care if I don't know your history?" Shadow retorted and was rewarded with another eyebrow and a slight smile that seemed to minimize the scars about his harsh face. Was that good or bad? Silent Shadow was unsure of the social ques this particular human seemed to give.

Slowly the soulless leaned forward and if Shadow could she would have leaned as far away as possible but the cold metal of the chair was unyielding. "You're right." He said in that continually dead voice. "That is neither here nor there. Lets get down to business. You continue to answer my questions and you get to live that much longer." He paused slightly as if searching for the right word. "Do we have a deal?"

The seriousness of this soulless's voice made her only able to nod in confirmation. She didn't want to die, she wanted to live and experience. A small smirk came over the mans face and he leaned backwards once again, perfectly at ease. "Glade you agreed. I didn't want to call my friend back and leave you two alone."

A deep echoing sentiment of agreement met those words. Shadow didn't want the obviously unstable human alone with her for even a single moment. She didn't want to even try to fathom what that violent primitive would do to her; she much preferred this _controlled_ violent primitive who wan't going to hurt her-just yet.

Taking her continued silence as agreement Shadow's interrogator continued in that same dead voice."Tell me. How old are you?"

That was an extremely simple question, Shadow easily knew the age of her body. "I'm 19. Why.." Quickly she was interrupted by the dead voice. "No. How long have you been on this planet? How long have you been in that stolen body?"

Silent Shadow made to open her mouth but hesitated. How long had she been here? She had never thought about it and she wasn't sure. She did remember waking up on a cold metal table in a cold sterile white room, with an equally white dressed woman standing over her. There were other memories as well small things of a childhood she knew she never had. Learning to ride a bike. Learning how to read small paper back books with bright colorful pictures on their fronts. The hugs and kisses of an adoring parent, who's face was shrouded and warped by the passage of time. "I've been here and in this body for 6 years." Shadow muttered.

A harshness came over the scarred face at her words and he remained silent for a time. "You thieves disgust me." Anger surged throughout the voice now and it terrified Shadow to her bones. "Taking the bodies of children! Destroying them before they can even begin to live!"

"I'm sorry!" she cried; trying to placate the obviously angered face. "This is what they had for me. I didn't want to have an older body. The healers told me..."

"I don't give a damn what your spineless healers say! Your kind murders children!" Quickly the scar faced man stood up and towered over the sitting form of Silent Shadow; suddenly the table in front of her didn't seem like much a barrier. He blocked out the light of the fixture above and caste his own ominous shadow over the terrified soul. "You don't understand!" Shadow cried in terror, tears brimming and flowing down her naturally dark skin.

Solidly planting two massive fists on the table the soulless leaned toward her again. "Explain then. Why would filthy parasites destroy children? Explain to me why I shouldn't kill you right now." His voice had returned to its quiet unemotional tone with jarring suddenness. Shadow was still too frightened to really try and understand the mans mood swings all she was capable of was responding in hopes of postponing the inevitable.

"No! This is only the second planet I've ever been too! They thought I was too inexperienced! Please I don't wanna die!" Deep chest shaking sobs racked across Shadows entire body as she cried and blubbered in terror. She was so afraid of dying the final death, there was so much she desired to experience.

Still well in the grips of her own terror Shadow couldn't help but feel a small sliver of surprise. The angry scowl that had adorned the heavily scarred humans face was gone; in its place a look of puzzlement and possibly concern. No a human could never be concerned about a soul. They were selfish naturally as a species, incapable of altruism.

The continual cries and sobs of Shadows induced hysteria continued for a time out of mind for the young soul. She had been choked, hit, slammed, and threatened with death. There was no way she was going to return from the terror induced insanity without a little help. That help was supplied by the helping hand of her now thoroughly confused interrogator.

A sudden blow came across Silent Shadows dark skinned cheek that jarred her from her panic induced hysteria. Instead of crying and wailing uncontrollably, she now only had small hiccups and tremors. Still trying to control herself in anyway possible Shadow barely noticed the large hand reach out and firmly grip her chin forcing it upward to look into the intense blue eyes of her crouched interrogator.

He continued to gaze into her dark glowing eyes for what felt like an eternity to the still lightly weeping Soul. With an almost completely dismissive gesture the soulless removed his hand and stood up never breaking eye contact. "We're done here." With that the man strode toward the door.

With the fog of terror still clinging to Shadow's mind she wasn't sure at first what to make of the sudden change. Then it hit her with the force of a thousand bombs. He was done with her. He. Was. Done. With. Her. A primal voice in the dark recesses of her mind screamed in denial at what that could only mean. Before she could even utter a single plea, her soulless executioner was already out the door and down a hall.

Silent Shadow began to scream and beg at the empty room and anyone who could hear her. She begged for mercy. Begged for her life. Made promises to not tell anyone. Promised to tell them anything. All just so she wouldn't die the final death and enter nothingness. Her body began to shake like a tree in a powerful wind but, this time there were no sudden up welling of tears. Shadow had surpassed the point of crying and now simply sat spewing her increasingly desperate cries for help and mercy.

**If you've gotten to here I thank you the reader. **

**Please if you could take the time to leave a review on what you believed could be improved or what you felt was simply perfect please let me know.**

**I like people to be harsh in their judgments so please tell me what should be improved.**


	3. The Other Side

**I do not claim to have any rights or owner ship to the book "The Host". **

**This chapter was tough to be honest and I hope everyone who reads enjoys. I sure know I did when I wrote it.**

The high pitched screams and wails still pulled at the ears of the heavily scarred man, even after he had left the hallway that lead to the source of those disturbing sounds. Stopping in the middle of an adjoining hallway, the man knew he should go back and get what he came for. No one could have asked for a better more easily intimidated prisoner than the current girl handcuffed to a cold metal chair. Everything had worked out perfectly despite the stupidity of his former partner.

Callused fists clinched and teeth grinded together in anger at the man's stupidity. Trying to smash the skull of their prisoner? What was the point? Why for the love all that was holy did that stupid group of old fools insist, on having that fat sadistic coward of a human being, accompany him? The man no longer cared why and was simply happy to be rid of him. Breaking two of the fat imbeciles' fingers as insistence on him leaving was simply a matter of self indulgence.

Still he visibly relaxed, with his facial muscles no longer clinching in anger. That familiar feeling of uncertainty coursed through his veins once again as the man thought back to the tears the thing had shed in it fright. A part of him was honestly surprised that the thing hadn't lost control and wet itself. He couldn't help but think back to that unexpected encounter on dark streets.

He vividly remembered how it felt as the small body went limp and he moved his hands preparing to snap its neck. That was when It had given Its first real plea. The tiny voice had sounded pitiful as his arm was wrapped around its neck. Its body was so insignificant compared to himself. It seemed more a child; hurt and needing help, then a member of a genocidal race that had stolen so many things from the scarred man's life. The child like stature of the thing, within his grasp, had made him stop and hesitate.

Painful memories threatened to surface from the dark forbidden corners of the scarred mans mind; where they had been tucked away for so very long. Screwing up his face in a ragged construct of pain the man forcefully beat down those unwanted thoughts and he returned to the matter of hand. What was he supposed to do with the thing now?

Running his fingers through closely trimmed hair, he saw a small group of individuals round a corner further down the dilapidated hallway. Obviously that fat fuck had made like any school yard bully who had just been freshly punched for the nearest authority figure. The scarred man narrowed his eyes as he saw his former partner amongst the group approaching him. A cocky grin was plastered across his face while he cradled an obviously swelling hand.

As the group reached the scarred man the apparent leader spoke up with the authoritative voice of Samuel Terrance. Samuel had anointed himself the unofficial leader of the group hiding out in the middle of enemy controlled Little Rock. The man had shown up two years after the Scarred man himself had come to the group. When Samuel had shown up he had imposed order on the controlled chaos that the place had been. "Peter, what is the meaning of this," he gesticulated wildly at the fat man behind him. Coolly the heavily scarred Peter responded, "What's the problem?"

The fat man's face turned an ugly boiling red at the Peter's apparent ease. "You damn well know what the problem is you bastard! You broke my fingers." The fat man immediately brought up his still swelling and untreated hand as if to add weight to his words. "You should really get some ice on that Stanley. It looks bad." The now named Stanley made a threatening move forward but was immediately halted by an outstretched arm from Samuel.

"Don't play games Peter. Why did you attack Stanley and why the hell did you leave that thing alone in there?!" A small insignificant chorus of agreement met Samuel's announcement. The entire group behind Samuel, were kiss asses and the worst kind, they groveled. Not a single one of those people behind that man had a spine. They made Peter's scarred visage want to retch in disgust.

Peter shrugged absently at Samuels pointed question. "You know exactly why Sam. If you hadn't stuck that worthless, raping, excess for a human being with me you wouldn't have to be here now." Samuel made to respond but Peter immediately cut him off.

"Shut up! I told that stupid fuck that we were going to stick with my plan and nothing else!" Immediately Peter brought up a hand and pointed it accusingly at Stanley. "That jackass didn't want to do that and he learned what happens when he doesn't. He nearly ruined any chance we might have of getting it to talk."

"All I did was stun it a bit; it's not like I started to fuc…" As Stanley tried to defend himself he was caught off guard as a hand came and cuffed him across the jaw; knocking him to the ground.

The lanky form of Samuel stood over Stanley with rage plastered across his face. "You brought me down here because you couldn't do what you were told?!" Screamed the base voice of Samuel, "You got what was coming to you. Don't you ever waste my time like this ever again".

Turning on his heels Samuel and his small group of kiss asses followed him back to where they had come. The flabby form of Stanley stayed on the floor, plainly shocked that Samuel hadn't decided to side with him. All Stanley did for a time was sit down on his massive backside and look back at the retreating form of Samuel.

Peter looked at the pitiful form of Stanley and made a clicking sound with his tongue while shaking his head, "You really should learn to fight your own battles Stan. At least those that don't involve food." With that Peter turned from Stanley's still sitting form and made to return to the room with its apparently now quiet occupant.

Peter footsteps continued to put distance between himself and the obese Stanley. Blinded by rage and realizing this was his best chance Stanley got up as quietly as he could and rushed toward Peter's retreating form without making a single sound.

As he was nearly a hairs breadth away from his target Stanley pulled out a small switch blade and pressed the button releasing the razor sharp tool. The sound of the blades release was the only thing that saved Peter from being skewered.

Turning around with the reflexes born of an unconventional life Peter saw the blade clutched in Stanley's hand and immediately gripped the fat man's wrist in a grip of iron. Pivoting and using the fat bastards own momentum against him he managed to twist Stanley's arm to where it was resting comfortably against the man's own pulsing neck. "Well Stan," said Peter actually impressed by Stanley's boldness, "you actually grew a pair."

Peter paused slightly wondering exactly what he should do and Stanley was only able to sweat bullets at what Peter might do. Slitting the stupid bastards' throat was very appealing, but Peter knew the exact penalty. It was the assured death of the murderer in whatever manner the victim's family chose. Instead Peter decided on something more painful and memorable.

With a jerk and a small crack Peter had broken Stanley's only good wrist. Immediately Stanley fell backward with a howl of agony and clutched at his broken wrist with his equally painful broken fingers. Doing so only doubled the pain of the man.

Peter stood and marveled at his work on the floor and couldn't help but wish he had just killed the bastard. Just as he was about to head toward the still silent prisoner, he spotted Stanley's still open switchblade. To the victors go the spoils and Peter swiftly knelt down and picked up the still open blade.

Fingering the blade tip with an index finger, Peter turned from the still squealing form of Stanley and headed toward where he should have been all along. He still hadn't made up his mind yet about what to do with the thing. Did he kill it? Did he… No there was nothing else that could or would be done. The mere idea that he would do anything else was stupid. Before Peter knew it he was in front of the door that was at the center of his thoughts.

Shaking his short haired head vigorously to clear his thoughts, Peter made a mental list about his goals. He would continue where he left off and the knife would prove immensely useful. Get as much information as possible and then deal with his prisoner as he would any other Seeker. However, he knew she wasn't a seeker. Did that change anything? Peter didn't know the answer to that question and simply pushed the thought to the back of his mind and opened the door crossing into the abyss.

Immediately when Peter entered, he saw the still chained form of his inhuman prisoner. The things head was resting directly on the table and he couldn't see its face."Shit" Peter muttered. The thing may have just killed itself while he was gone. While it did happen from time to time with Seeker's; in Peters experience it wasn't something that regular souls resorted to unless they saw no hope.

With his worn leather boots barely making a sound across the smooth concrete, Peter strode over to his prisoner and gripped its' hair and jerked it head upward so he could get a look. There was no blood coming from the eyes or ears and it was still breathing so it was obviously alive. The things eyes, however were closed and a small sliver of drool dribbled from the corner of its mouth. Twisting his head to the side in puzzlement, Peter didn't know what to make of the things condition. Did it just faint from fright or did it simply hyperventilate?

"Wake up!" Peter shouted feeling irritated at this newest development. The drooling form of the soul, however remained unresponsive. Immediately raising a hand upward Peter slapped the unconscious thing across the face. Still the prisoner did not wake up or show even a sign waking up; not even a fluttering of the eyelids.

Frowning in irritation, Peter didn't know what exactly to do. Maybe he could pour water on her? The leaking water from the shelters of his childhood usually woke him up easily. However, Peter knew he couldn't leave the thing alone again. It could wake up on its own or Stanley or even one of his flunkies could be waiting for him to leave.

Peter knew that the interrogation room was no longer a safe place to keep the thing. Where could he keep the thing now that this place was likely to be watched by the jackals of this enclave? The only place he knew of that only the most desperate individuals would try to bother the thing would be his room.

Early on when Peter had started to live with these people, he had taught the resident pilferers that his room was off limits under extreme peril. Before Samuel had arrived along with his extreme justice; thievery had been fairly common to an extent.

Knelling down and removing a ring of keys from his pocket, Peter began the process of removing the restraints. Peter removed and replaced the cuffs on both legs in case she did wake up, and then Peter did the exact same with both arms. A small part of him couldn't help but feel sympathy toward the thing when Peter saw the bloody marks around the wrists and ankles.

The thing still hadn't woken up and it didn't seem like it would any time soon. When Peter felt certain the thing was fairly well secured he tossed it over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and made his way out the door.

Just as Peter expected one of Stanley's flunkies was waiting near the room. Peter noticed the man from the corner of his eye as the man lounged in the shadows of another door way. It was the muscle bound form of Andrew May. Andrew was a 6 foot 6 heavily muscled man with arms that could crush a lesser man's skull. At that moment, Andrew was dressed in heavily faded and worn jeans and an equally faded yellowed shirt.

Immediately, Peter turned in Andrew's direction and simply cocked an eyebrow in question. All Andy did was give a wave of one of his massive hands and walked away in the opposite direction of Peter's own room. As big as Andrew was in comparison to Peter's own 6 foot form, he was well aware that he would need help if he wanted to halt Peter. Peter stood there making sure Andy went all the way down the hall before he himself headed toward his own room.

As Peter made his way toward his room that was the farthest from any other individuals, he couldn't help but wonder what had come over him. Why was he walking to his room with a soul slung over his shoulder? He hated souls with a burning passion. What was it about this particular soul that was making him take such precautions to prevent its immediate death? It had to be his hope that maybe any information he got out of this thing would enable him to leave this small uncomfortable place with its pitiful inhabitants. Maybe just maybe this thing would give him something to live for and not just wait for death or a Seeker raid. It could not and would not be a sense of pity for the tiny form draped across his shoulder.

Peter continued on his way still pondering the situation over and over again from every angle he could conceive. He walked past other people who resided in this place of safety and took no notice of them. They all looked the same as far as he was concerned with the same tattered and worn clothes with hallowed out eyes.

Peter had walked this path so many times, he no longer had to think about where his feet carried him. The walls about him had bothered him with its faded green tint and slightly pealing wallpaper at first but after years of living in this place, Peter had finally begun to ignore it. The lighting was done by occasionally flickering bulbs that lined the top of the hallway.

To his very bones Peter wished he hadn't come to this place with its lack of sun light and hoped that his prisoner would enable him to see it more often. The tightly controlled raids into the Soul's world, was not enough to satisfy Peters need for sun light or even the light of the stars.

Time past Peter by as he was lost in his thoughts and before he knew it he was finally at the rough wooden door to his room. Shifting the still unconscious form of the thing on his shoulder, he pulled out his key ring and unlocked the multiple locks on the door. The creek of rusted metal met Peter's ears as he opened the door with a light shove. When he had first arrived at this sanctuary he had made sure to reinforce the door with thick pieces of metal that he had managed to scavenge along with dead bolts.

As he entered the room, he flipped a switch and bright light flooded the room from fixtures adorning the sides. The place was sparsely furnished with a single bed, covered in slightly moth eaten sheets. At the foot of the bed was a giant wooden trunk that contained items that were vital for Peter's continued survival. These objects ranged from knives sharpened to a hairs breath, to even urban and wilderness camouflage.

Another much smaller room branched off from the main. There a person could make use of the small shower and toilet to satisfy their needs. Although the sink, toilet, and shower were well maintained, they were slightly yellowed with the passage of time.

In the corner a moderately sized book self was placed, filled to the brim with books. Those books were the reason for the reinforced door. Books before the day of awaking, when Earths invaders were identified, was a sought after treasure along with the information they contained. The libraries where most books were contained were off limits to the remnants of humanity.

Each one of those books had information that could help the human race. Peter had books on medicine and survival to even nuclear physics and chemistry. There wasn't a single book of entertainment because; Peter didn't believe they held any value to his continued survival.

When Samuel had first arrived, he had urged Peter to allow everyone access to those books and it had nearly come to force when Peter had refused him. In the end, Peter had simply said he would trade those books for a time if he was given compensation. With that compromise, Peter had become a librarian of sorts, however he was extremely choosy on what he took in exchange. Even then anyone who did not return a book at a specified time was the focal point for Peter's fury. Then there were others he simply refused to lone the books too or even certain books altogether.

Those books and this room were the only place Peter could really find any sense of peace. As Peter crossed the threshold into his room, he could feel his muscles relax and the burden of carrying his prisoner came to the forefront of his mind. Grunting with effort, he closed the door and relocked it hurriedly, then tossed the unconscious thing onto his bed with a creek of springs.

"What should I do with you now," Peter wondered aloud. He looked about his room and didn't see anything that the thing could be cuffed to. The only chair he had in the room wasn't bolted to the floor. He wasn't going to chain the thing to his bed he had seen enough of that already; not to mention he didn't want his bed soiled. Peter walked into his bathroom and looked around for something suitable before he rested his eyes on the yellowed sink with its copper piping.

The pipes looked sturdy and didn't seem to be loose. Jerking lightly at the pipes to test their resistance, Peter was satisfied. He had found his impromptu interrogation room. Peter knew that the unfamiliar room and more than likely smell would help reinstall his prisoners fear. Making his decision Peter proceeded to walk back to the bed and drag the small body back to the bathroom and cuff her hands directly behind the faded copper pipes.

Peter couldn't help but notice as he recuffed the things hands how raw and bloody its wrists were. He could only assume that her ankles were equally just as bloody.

Nodding once it was secured behind the pipes, Peter opened a small wooden cabinet above the yellowed sink and withdrew a small plastic cup. Snapping on the water and letting get as cold as possible, Peter proceeded to partially fill the cup and set it aside for the moment. Quickly Peter returned to his private sanctuary and grabbed the only chair he had; a hard backed wooden thing with slightly peeling paint. Swiftly he set it down with a hard crack on the tiled floor of the bathroom in front of his prisoner.

Before he ever sat down Peter grabbed the cup of water and dumped its contents on the unconscious Soul. Immediately the icy water had the desired effect jarring the unconscious thing out of its comatose state and Peter sate down with an inaudible sigh.

The water seemed to act like a jolt of electricity as the unbound-but, cuffed-feet of the Soul jerked about in a weird dance of limbs and the bound arms struggling to move. The things dark hair was now wet and sticking to its face obscuring its vision. The water soaked its entire shirt with little spillage onto the cracked tiled floor. It turned back and forth trying to see where it was. "Wh…Where am I?" the thing crocked, its voice sounding tired and hoarse. This hoarseness had to be due to its near ear drum shattering wails from not too long before.

"You are certainly not in Kansas Dorothy", came the emotionless reply from the seated form of Peter. The things neck craned upward trying to see where the voice had come from. "That's not my name", it said in a slurred voice "it's Silent Shadow." Peter could only shake his head at the lack of knowledge in popular culture this thing displayed.

"Are you going to kill me now?"

The sudden question and the things voice threw Peter slightly off balance, its voice sounded hollow and dead. There was no defiance in it like the Seekers in Peter's past experience; it was disconcerting. Peter gave the only reply he could, "Not yet."

A watery voice responded and this time he heard the fear that was all too common in Seekers. "Please," it trailed off sounding pitiful in its fear. Peter could see the shaking starting to take over its body and unlike the previous time it was not restrained by a chair. The things small shoe clad legs which it had drawn up to its chest had begun to shake with the knees knocking together visibly.

Peter crushed the small light of empathy he felt for the creature as he pulled out his recently acquired switchblade and pressed the button letting the blade slip free. The audible snap of the blade as it went into place made the small body seize up. Slowly it looked at the blade and through the strands of wet matted hair Peter could see the fear as it looked on at the blade.

Taking a deep breath Peter spoke in a deadly quiet voice, "If you don't talk, I'll do it now. If you do, you get to live to see another day." Peter waited for a response from the curled up form of his prisoner. He waited all the while fingering the knifes tip and starring intently.

Slowly the things legs uncurled from their fetal like position and splayed out fully extending still chained together at the ankles. As time passed and no response was forth coming Peter could feel his patience waning. Just as Peter was about to simply do the deed and end what was an apparent waste of time Peter became aware of an acrid small. Immediately he looked downwards and noticed a spreading puddle of liquid around the legs of the woman.

In all of Peter's experience he had never had a prisoner piss themselves. "Did you…" Before Peter could finish his sentence the woman before him erupted like a banshee and wild bull mixed together.

"I don't know anything!" she screamed. "Please, I don't wanna die! I'll do anything! I'll draw for you! Don't look at me! Don't kill me!" The woman's cries dissolved into incoherent wails and tear filled sobs.

Gazing on in a shocked curiosity, Peter was left utterly without words. He didn't know if he should kill her or comfort her. What Peter was hearing from this thing, no, this woman in front of him was pitiful. Time crawled by and the women's cries didn't stop although they did grow quieter.

That familiar sense of conflict returned from the interrogation room to Peter's chest. Never before had he felt so conflicted when it came to this awful body stealing scum. He had heard everything from Seekers as they begged not to die or cursed him as he pulled a trigger. That was the problem this woman was not a Seeker, she had done nothing more wrong then stumble into him on a sidewalk. All Peter found that he could do was sit there and watch and listen.

Already the acrid smell of the women's urine was beginning to bother Peter's sensitive nose. Standing up and pocketing the switchblade, its blade no longer open, Peter walked over to the shower grabbing a faded brown towel hanging with the curtains. Immediately, he returned and knelt down over the woman pressing the towel across the warm soaked middle of the hysterical woman.

This proved to be the wrong move as it threw the woman into renewed hysterics and she began to shake all the harder. This further bloodied her wrists and ankles and blood began to slowly drip onto the hard floor.

"Sit still idiot. I'm trying to clean this piss up." An iron edge of anger had entered Peter's voice as he tried to renew his efforts at maid work. "No you're not", the woman cried, "you're gonna kill me!"

Getting back to his feet Peter could only frown at the babbling woman as she continued to writhe like a worm under a magnifying glass. He had managed to clean up the small puddle the women had produced, but her clothes still smelled from where he stood. He couldn't keep talking to her in her current state; he couldn't maintain the dominance he needed for the interrogation and he even if he could, oddly, Peter didn't want to. There was only one thing to do about this problem and it involved doing something Peter found immensely distasteful.

Turning toward the book shelf, Peter went to grab a book that held particular significance to him, both good and bad. Peter scanned the many titles looking for the exact manuscript he was searching for. Finding it, he pulled the dusty tome down from the self and walked out the door; not before making sure the door was properly locked.

With the large tattered book in hand, Peter set off for the one person he knew could help him at that moment, Martha Reid. Martha was a wispy gray haired woman whose wrinkled skin made her look dozens of times older than her actual sixy-two years. When Peter had first arrived Martha had been the friendliest of the group and had tried to get him to open up. Every Sunday Martha had shown up without fail and invited him to her church gathering.

Never once had Peter taken her up on it, but he still remained on fairly even terms with her. Recently she had been pestering him for a book he had let slip he had. It was a book he had sworn never to let another person have because of the shear nature of it.

There was far more people in the section where Martha lived, owing to the religious gatherings she held. On his way to Martha's lodgings, he passed by many people and the only two children who were swiftly pulled out of Peters path by nervous parents. It did not take long to reach Martha's small room despite the unfamiliar path Peter was forced to take.

Martha's door was like any of the other dozen Peter had passed by except hers had the carved words, "Martha's First Baptist Church". Shaking his head as he read the words, Peter knocked on the door with enough force to rattle the hinges; he had no wish to be there long.

Quickly the gray haired form of Martha answered the door with her usual smile plastered across her face. "Hello Peter. It's rather late don't yea think?" Martha's wrinkled and thin body belied the strong voice she could produce. "I don't care Ms. Reid," was Peter's only response. It seemed the old woman still didn't mind his blatant rudeness; strangely that made Peter like her all the more.

Martha only smiled, "Well then Mr. Peter, what'cha need? I was sleeping and I mean to get right back to it." With a big outrush of air and trying not to blush Peter made his request, "I need some women's cloths. Preferably pants and underwear with a small waist." Predictably Martha stood there for a full minute processing his words with a slightly open mouth.

After a time that seemed to drag on Martha finally responded in a slightly confused and alarmed tone, "Why on gods good green earth do you need those? Are they for that girl you caught tonight?" "Does it really matter Ms. Reid? Do you have them or not?" said Peter in a heated voice. "Didn't I tell you ages ago stop using my last name? You can call me Martha," said Martha her smile growing wider, "I've got them. I'm just wondering if you got something I want?"

Peter only could nod as he shoved the book in front of women's nose. He leaned forward with the book in hand to whisper into Martha's ear, "I want your silence as well and everything in a bag." Her eyes which had been nearly covered by some of her wrinkles had brightened up like those of a younger woman. She could only violently node as she turned around and rushed back into her room.

Proceeding to wait for Martha to return, Peter leaned against the wall with arms crossed. He hopped she remained quiet with the gift he was offering. Peter knew it would do no good if people heard about this transaction. If they did people would be beating at his door trying to get a hold of the little Soul. No one here would stand for a Soul to be treated with any semblance of dignity.

Sounds of banging and heavy pieces of furniture being dragged across the floor could be heard. These bangs and the inaudible whispers of Martha were all that could be heard as Peter waited.

With a sharp jerk and bang of metal on wood, Martha pulled her door open with a small duffle bag in hand and sweat lightly coating her brow. She must have worked double time to get everything together. That book must really mean a lot to the woman like it always did to its readers. "I didn't have any pants like yea asked for, but I did put a few in there and a belt all the same", Martha's voice was breathless with anticipation.

Idly, Peter tossed the book in Martha's direction and unzipped the bag to make sure she had indeed done what she had said. Immediately Peter saw several dresses, shirts, and pants all of them in varying sizes and colors. He even saw a few pairs of panties and bras. Hopefully, one or two of these would fit that crying woman and just maybe it would shut her up.

"Thank you," Peter said curtly and strolled back toward his room, but not before Martha could yell back at him. "You're welcome and you had better be gentle," she cried with glee. As Peter walked away he shook his head in distaste at what the women must think. The only good thing of this entire transaction was that Peter had finally gotten rid of that worthless Bible.

Peter's trip back to his room didn't last anywhere near as long as it did to reach Martha's place. As he entered and relocked the door all Peter could hear were the small sniffles of the woman still cuffed in his bathroom. He let out a small sigh at his own actions. What the hell was he thinking? Why the hell did he care if it had clean clothes after it pissed itself?

Quickly, Peter walked over to the entrance and unceremoniously dropped the duffle bag of women's clothes. Unzipping it swiftly he pulled out a random yellow dress and gingerly handled a mismatched pair of bra and panties. He wasn't about to let her wear pants if a belt was needed. The woman could easily strangle him or even herself with it.

With the clothes in hand Peter stomped into the bathroom drawing the glowing brown eyes of his captive. "Stop your crying," Peter demanded, "I've got a dress you can wear. Your other stuff smells." Even as he said it Peter couldn't meet her eyes. It was embarrassing to the extreme to have to do this. What was worse his reason sounded half assed even to him. Souls might not be the best liars in the world but surely they were not stupid enough to not catch that.

Turning his head to look back into those red rimmed eyes Peter saw its head nodding so quickly it looked liable to fall off. The hope he saw in that raven haired face made him seriously question the wisdom of this. Did it want him to take pity on crocodile tears? No, not even Seekers had the raw ability to fake emotion like that.

Dropping the yellow dress and other garments on the floor; Peter knelt down to eye level of the small woman. "I'm going to release these cuffs," he narrowed his eyes and spoke in a dark tone, "if you try and move before I'm done I'll snap your neck like a twig." The small thing flinched back into the copper pipe in fright, but nodded quickly.

"It's good we've got an understanding," Peter said as he stared intently into it glowing eyes. Never moving his eyes from those blood shot glowing orbs Peter took out his key ring and uncuffed both wrists and ankles. The woman did as she was told and didn't move a muscle once throughout the entire time.

Swiftly Peter withdrew from her reach and motioned with a hand toward the dropped pile of clothes. "Hurry up," he said gruffly. On hands and knees the woman scurried toward the clothes and gathered them up into her arms before standing on shaky feet with small streams of dried blood.

The small insignificant Soul stood in front of Peter with her head bowed and her hair covering much of her face. The clothes were clutched tightly to her chest as if they were her life-line and only protection. Small shoe clad feet twisted into the floor like a child being scolded and as the small woman did nothing.

Peter could feel his patience and sympathy waning as the soul continued to put off changing "What are you waiting for?" The harshness of Peter's voice made the small thing flinch and clutch the yellow dress closer to her chest. An incomprehensible mumble escaped her hidden lips. "Say that again," said Peter his patience worn thin.

Hesitantly the woman raised her head, "You're in here…could you?" The unvoiced question fell on deaf ears. "No," stated Peter in a clear uncompromising voice. A small whimper escaped from the woman and slowly she shuffled her feet to where she was no longer directly facing Peter's blunt face.

With a soft rustle of fabric on fabric the woman dropped the dress to the floor. Small sniffles could be heard as she slowly gripped her shirt and tugged it off, discarding it to the floor. The sniffles that had started were slowly turning into sobs as the woman unbuttoned her pants and shimmied them to the floor along with her discarded shirt and shoes.

Finding himself completely baffled at the women's renewed tears Peter could only stand at the doorway with his arms crossed. All he wanted was for her to put the damn dress on along with the stupid panties and then he could recuff her and they could continue the questioning. Peter could feel himself growing ever more impatient as the woman continued to slowly undress. However he was stupefied at the young woman's next actions.

The small dark skinned girl had turned around, while Peter was lost in his own world, as naked as the day she was born. The only thing preserving any pretense of modesty were the small almost twig like arms covering her breasts and womanhood. "Do whatever you want," she said her voice quivering with fear, "just don't kill me."

**Please don't forget to leave a nice review. It lets me know what I'm doing wrong or right. I hope everyone has a nice holiday!**

**I'm sorry to say this chapter really drained me I may not be able to update again for a little while. However, I WILL be writting just not a lot.**


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